@smccthscaled location: private chambers notes: what do you mean you have nothing to wear?
The candlelight wavered against the polished surfaces of Godric’s quarters, gilding the edges of books stacked neatly upon a low table and casting long, fractured shadows against the deep green drapes. A decanter of wine, left untouched, stood beside a single glass on his writing desk, though Godric himself was settled in a high-backed chair near the hearth, one leg elegantly crossed over the other. He studied his guest with a quiet, unwavering scrutiny, fingertips idly toying with the golden clasp of his cloak before finally letting his hand fall still.
Gaetan was impressive in all things, even when at rest - lean muscle wrapped in well-worn leather, his presence was a sharp - welcome - contrast to the chamber. The witcher looked every bit the creature that was more shark than man. Pointed teeth, a smooth frame, and ridges that Godric relished exploring at every opportunity. While never quite far from his mind, that wasn't what was going to raise the following question as he looked the witcher-for-hire up and down. Appraisingly, appreciatively.
“I assume you do not intend to attend the ball dressed like that,” Godric remarked smoothly, his voice carrying the same tempered patience as a man awaiting a merchant’s justification for a steep asking price. “I understand practicality is your trade, but I would prefer my company to complement rather than contrast. Please, tell me you have something more appropriate to wear."